


Cover of Night

by MapToWhereIAlreadyAm, MonoOwl



Category: Star Wars: A New Dawn - John Jackson Miller, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels, post-AND
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapToWhereIAlreadyAm/pseuds/MapToWhereIAlreadyAm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonoOwl/pseuds/MonoOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being aboard the Ghost a few months, a nightmare signifies something shifting in Kanan’s psyche and impacts his relationship with Hera. Post-AND, Pre-Rebels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover of Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to gimyohan for beta reading and hand holding on my first fanfic. Edited: to add them as a co-author since it felt more collaborative than simply beta reading.

Kanan sat up in bed with a start, panting and drenched in sweat. Groggily, he tried to remember what had awakened him. It hadn’t been pleasant, that he had no doubt, but it was already fading from his mind.

 

He lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. He began to focus on the sounds that usually gave him comfort: the soft BEEP of the navicomputer, the slight hum of the power generator, the faint ins and outs of Hera’s breathing… but all he could hear was silence. It was unnaturally quiet aboard the Ghost. 

 

He threw off his blanket. It seemed that he wouldn’t find sleep tonight. He stretched, wincing a bit as his shoulders made a nasty cracking noise, and swung his legs his legs over the side of his bunk. Quietly, as not to wake Hera, he entered the Ghost’s main hallway. He walked down the dark corridor aimlessly, thinking that he might perhaps go to the galley - he wasn’t entirely sure why; caf seemed like a bad idea this time of night. He dimly registered the soothing way the Ghost’s interior flickered blue from the star blur of hyperspace.  _ Pretty _ , he thought.

 

Kanan found himself nearing the cockpit - he hadn’t meant to come this far. He turned the lights on with a flick of his fingers, wincing a bit at the sudden light. He felt something sticky on his hand where he had touched the light switch, so he made to wipe it off on his sleeve - but gave a start as he caught a glimpse of red. His fingers were covered in a wet substance. Blood…

 

His body processed faster than his brain - he noticed his stomach clenching before he registered alarm. He whipped around and stared at the light control panel. A bloody handprint was plastered on it… far too small to be from his hand. Panic struck him. “Hera!” He tried to scream, but it came out a whisper.

 

He spun around to the direction of her cabin.  _ Please, no. _ He broke into a run, racing down the corridor. He reached out with the Force, his panic spiking when he felt no reassuring presence answering his call. He slipped and nearly missed her cabin door, skidding to a halt in what he realized was more blood. Her door was a hand’s width open. He ripped the door open using the Force, taking in the room. In the darkness, he could just make out someone lying on her bunk. “Hera!” He shouted. There was no reply.

 

Dread filled him. He somehow managed to turn the lights on without taking his eyes off the figure on the bed.

 

Hera lay on her bunk; a vibroblade sunk to the hilt in her chest, her mouth agape in a silent scream. Blood was soaked through her flightsuit, more red than orange now, and staining the sheets, which were slowly dripping red into a puddle on the floor. Kanan fell forward with a sob, collapsing beside her, cradling her, vainly checking for a pulse he already knew wasn’t there. He trembled, feeling the anguish build up in him, rising in his chest, until he released it in a scream…

 

...And found himself in his bunk; his heart pounding inside his heaving chest, his clothes soaked through with sweat, his sheets twisted, half of them on the floor… a dream.

 

_ Only a dream _ , he repeated. He slowed his breathing, trying to calm his mind the way Master Depa had taught him. He reached out with the Force, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he immediately encountered Hera’s familiar presence, sleeping peacefully in her cabin. Kanan buried his head in his hands, breathing out a silent thanks.

 

He grasped his wrist and flexed his fingers absently, willing away the feeling of the blood from his hand. Kanan decided ( _ again _ , he thought, grimly laughing to himself) that sleep wouldn’t return to him anytime soon. He swung out of his bunk and made the rounds of the Ghost, padding through the ship in his sleeping pants.

 

Moonlight streamed through the window of the cockpit. No star blur here - they were parked safely on this desert planet, not far from the town where they would meet an informant tomorrow. Kanan wondered vacantly where they had been going in his dream. Perhaps it had just been some perpetual hyperspace purgatory.

 

By the faint moonlight he could see that the control panels were clean, with not a drop of blood in sight. Hera’s door was closed. He walked over and stood in front of it for a long moment before laying his ear against it. He couldn’t hear anything, of course, but through the Force he could feel the gentle inhale and exhale of her breath, the rise and fall of her chest...  He smiled faintly and closed his eyes, allowing his breath to match hers. 

 

A rude beep caused him to jump back guiltily. Hera’s new C1 droid was parked behind him, giggling madly in binary. Kanan scowled. “None of your business, Droid.” He sighed and turned, walking back into his own cabin. His thoughts were unbearably heavy and fresh air seemed the best way to clear them. He pulled out a poncho and draped it over himself, then pulled on his boots and strapped on his gun belt. If he had bothered to look in the mirror, he would have realized that he had left his hair loose and he looked ridiculously half dressed, but he had no thoughts of seeing anyone tonight. 

 

“I’ll be outside for a bit, C1,” he said softly to the droid, closing the door to his cabin. It made a nasty noise in reply, and Kanan turned and glared.

 

“Again! None. Of. Your. Business.” Conversational niceties were beyond him right now. Part of him could still feel Hera’s lifeless body in his arms, and putting up with her droid was stretching his patience to unrealistic levels.

. 

Chopper, as Hera called it (and which Kanan flatly refused to say) had been with them for only a few weeks and Kanan was still getting used to the droid’s presence. Hell, he had been on the Ghost for months already and he was still getting used to Hera alone. She had rescued the old droid on her home planet of Ryloth during the Clone Wars, and it had been in a friend’s possession for safekeeping; but Hera had decided that they really needed an astromech for ship duties and had tracked it down again. At the time, Kanan had thought it would be a good idea, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

 

The Ghost’s ramp lowered and a rush of cool dry air washed over Kanan’s face. The spot Hera had chosen to park the ship was far enough away to not be seen from the town - the presence of such a large ship would draw too much attention - but was still close enough for them to meet their informant by speeder bike. Tucked behind a rocky outcropping and shielded from the shifting sands, the Ghost was invisible to most eyes.

 

Kanan took advantage of the solid ground and headed to the top of the ridge. It wasn’t far, and the view was spectacular. One full moon shone above the horizon, the other just peeking over. Neither was bright enough to dim the galaxy spread across the sky like a spray of diamonds. The flat silhouette of the desert horizon was broken here and there by rocky outcroppings and buttes, much like the one he was standing on.

 

He sat down on the ground, his knees drawn up and his hands resting lightly on them. He took a deep breath and took in the beauty of his surroundings, letting it work its magic on his aching heart. He exhaled slowly, controlling his breathing and feeling each breath become less ragged as he settled his mind.

 

He had shut himself off from the Force for months, ever since he had last used it on Gorse; yet he had reached out to use it more than once tonight. He didn’t like to seek out the Force; not anymore. But tonight… he had needed that reassurance. The blood, it had all been so  _ real _ ...

 

Kanan jumped as a hand was lightly drawn across the back of his shoulders. “So much for your powers of sight, Jedi,” Hera teased as she sat down beside him. 

 

Kanan snorted. “You have no idea.” He was pretty sure he meant it, too, even if he couldn’t exactly articulate everything it entailed.

 

“Try me.” She smiled encouragingly at him.

 

Kanan opened his mouth to say talk, but hesitated and closed it. “No. Not tonight…” He wasn’t ready to talk about not-being-a-Jedi. Not now.

 

Hera seemed to pick up on his mood and nodded obligingly. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I was going to try working but Chopper said you’d gone out to do something that was  _ none of my business _ , so, naturally, I ignored him.”

 

Kanan chuckled. “I actually told him that it was none of  _ his  _ business.” He vaguely noted that he had called the droid a  _ he _ , but shrugged it off. “I didn’t anticipate you waking up before I got back. I see you actually took the time to get dressed, though.” He paused, considering. “Unless you sleep in your flight suit?”

 

This time, Hera smiled. “You  _ are  _ cutting quite the dashing figure in your pajamas.” She paused for a long moment before continuing. “So why are you out here, anyways?”

 

Kanan considered. His knee-jerk reaction was to be flippant, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the memory of her corpse in his arms. The blood. The quiet of the night. The dark...

 

It was a while before he spoke. “I was fourteen when my Master died. She was gunned down in front of me; turned on by our friends - the clones that we had fought side-by-side with in the war. She sacrificed herself to give me a chance to run before the troopers got me.

 

“A master is the closest thing most Jedi have to a parent. I had been her Padawan - her apprentice - for only a few months before she was killed. I was just a  _ kid…  _ and I keep seeing her death in my dreams; over and over and over…”

 

Kanan heard a hitch in Hera’s breath. He felt her hand reach out to grasp his, squeezing it slightly. Suddenly, he felt an incredible surge of gratitude that she was in his life. He wanted to gather her in his arms, bury his head in her shoulder and cry with relief that she was alive and here with him under the stars, to feel her unconditional acceptance.

 

“You had another dream of her death tonight?” Hera asked quietly.

 

Kanan started to speak but then paused, fearing his voice might waver under the surge of emotion he was feeling. “No. I stopped having that nightmare months ago… when I came aboard the Ghost; when I met you.” He turned his head to look at her and pursed his lips before continuing. “No. I dreamed that you died tonight.” He watched her face in the moonlight. Flickers of emotion tugged at her face. Concern, denial perhaps? 

 

“I’m so sorry that happened, Kanan. But it was only a dream. I’m here. Alive.”

 

“I  _ know _ , Hera. But in dreams, you don’t usually know it’s a dream. In that moment, while you’re asleep, it’s  _ real _ .”

 

Hera was quiet. “Yes, I know,” she finally whispered. They sat for a while in silence.

 

“Well that’s where I am right now.” He said. 

 

Suddenly scooting closer, Hera took his hand and pressed it to her chest. “Do you feel my heart? Feel my breath? I’m  _ alive _ , Kanan. I’m safe.” She smiled reassuringly at him.

 

Something inside Kanan broke. A multitude of feelings rushed through him. Gratitude and awe, hope and fear, relief… something  _ more…  _

 

He closed his eyes and focused on what he felt: the rise and fall of her chest, the reassuring thump of her heartbeat, the heat of her body against his… Opening his eyes he saw her green eyes shining up at him in the moonlight. He felt like it was the first time he’d ever seen them, as if it would be the last... it felt incredible, and exquisite, and fragile.

 

He knew that tomorrow they would just brush it off, skirt anything between them, avoid all of the things that made life worth living; all banter and work and the  _ mission _ … But now, it was night, and he wanted to hold on to this feeling - to hold his reverence for the value of life, the beauty of Hera’s friendship, and the bittersweet understanding of mortality.

 

Hera was searching his face; for what, Kanan couldn’t tell. He supposed that he had blanked out for a minute, so he smiled to reassure her. He pulled his hand from her grasp to caress the side of her face, running his thumb over her cheek. “Thank you,” he breathed, leaning in and gently placing a kiss on her forehead. She grasped his wrist and pressed her forehead against his. “Anytime,” she whispered.

 

Hera’s comlink bleeped loudly, and the two fell apart. Kanan heard Chopper’s binary beeps alerting them to an incoming transmission. “Be right there,” Hera said, a tiny trace of resentment in her voice. “I should take that. If it’s our informant…”

 

Kanan nodded. “Of course. Go.” He grinned and gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go and turning back to gaze up at the sky.

 

The sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon. Dawn would soon return, and with it their mission of being a thorn in the side of the Empire. The lingering feelings from his dream had abated, and talking with Hera had gone a long way to soothing his soul. But Kanan had a feeling that there would be other nights, with more nightmares.

  
And he had a bigger concern to face now. He now realized something that he had missed before - he was in  _ love  _ with Hera Syndulla, and that prospect was far more terrifying to think about than any bad dream under the cover of night.


End file.
